Resonics Chronicles

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Sunday, September 26, 2010

Wow! In one day, there has already been 100 views of Revelations on Smashwords.com! Thanks for spreading the word y'all, keep it up, and be sure to rate/review on Smashwords.com! I have begun work on the first book of Resonics Chronicles. This is going to be full length so it will take time, about 10k words in the bag. Check in here and on the forums of jrcalvo.com. I'll be posting updates. Stay Tuned!

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Sometimes it's the little things that give you perspective in life. Take a facebook friend request for example. Two of them in the recent past have given me pause. First, I received one from a friend I had fallen out of touch with. One of those "Aw man, I gotta hang out with them sometime." Before I took the chance, she was murdered by her soon-to-be ex-husband. Just last night, I got a friend request from a high school friend, who I had lost touch with. She's in Afghanistan, for another three months at least. I hope she comes home safe.

As Lucky Durant would say, "Life's always a good idea at the time." Work, games, etc. will always be there, and can wait. Don't miss the chance to connect with someone. Plus you can always blame being late on traffic. ;) You never know if you'll miss the window. This is probably why I've pursued writing Resonics so tenaciously. Beneath the jabs at organized religion and politicians, beneath the message of "think for yourself," It's about isolated people making connections and their lives becoming better for it. Don't waste time on silly drama, grand scale of things, do they matter? Living life is the biggest paycheck, the tastiest meal, and the most epic game. Don't miss it.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Saturday, July 17, 2010

First, you stand and quiet your thoughts. You focus on the sounds you make: the thumping of your heart, the shhh of sand crunched between your toes, the crack of your neck as you stretch, and your slow release of breath. These are all static distractions, hiding your inherent tune. You brush them aside and push your senses deeper. Not listening. Ears are a useless organ to a Resonator. You know that sound waves are about pressure. You feel them pressing against your chest, feel them dancing through your fingertips, like a gentle breeze, meant only for you.

You grasp Resonation, feeling the whirlwind of power form about you. What once seemed only chaos and random becomes patterned to you. You see the reason why bits of sand leap and ride the wind. You know the path a droplet of sweat will follow before it falls. Within the current of new stimulus, you reside at the eye of the storm. You look inward.

Finally, you find your own tune, cradled within your core. You know it’s different from anyone else’s. You begin to move your arms, smiling as the decibels of your sound wax and wan. With your own tune in mind, you open your eyes and look around. To your surprise, a young cat has scampered out onto the ground, not ten feet from you. It watches you with head canted to the side. Like a bat’s echo-sounding, you press your tune out towards the cat and feel the wave rebound. The cat’s ears fold back for a moment, and it arcs its back in a stretch. For a normal human, it would take a myriad of equipment and calculations to determine the cat’s tune, frequency and decibels. You perceive this instantly.

Now you confront the choice: Tuned or Untuned Resonation. For now you choose Tuned, the matching of your tune to that of the cat. Like working a potter’s wheel you set to the task. You gently nudge and sculpt your tune, always causing slivers of change. Heighten the frequency; lower the decibels. You mold your tune, noticing its effects to your posture and stance. You start to hutch over, turning your ear towards the cat. You paw the ground with your toe, feeling the ripple of sound pulse shiver up your spine. The cat’s curiosity becomes more potent then its apprehension as it approaches. It seems surprised you bear a different smell then you. It corrects this discrepancy with ample leg rubbing. The cat shows no fear as you focus your pulse beneath it and lift it into the air. Its only response is to lick some sand off your nose.

The two of you turn in unison as a mouse scurries into view. Time slows for you as you invert your Resonation becoming Untuned. The whirlwind caves in upon you as fury fills you. The cat’s ears fold into attack position. It coils up prepping for the strike. You reach out and slam the mouse’s tune with your own. It freezes in place under your bombardment. The cat senses its prey is pinned and lunges. Sand flees aside before the cat’s resonically surged charge. A sneer of bared teeth crosses your face. The mouse never had a chance.

Monday, July 12, 2010

First, you approach this cold metal behemoth more than twice your size. You run your hand along its plated hull and feel more than just smooth steel. You feel its heartbeat, the perpetual droning hum of oil and lubricant as they pulse through its veins. Up close you realize the plates aren’t perfect as years of extreme heating and cooling have caused ripples and warps in the metal. They give the armor a face, a distinctive character. You know there is no armor exactly alike. Like a new toy, you can’t help rubbing away the fingerprints you’ve left. You look up at the mirror-image of yourself frozen in steel and smile. Everyone does, their first time, and the armor is happy to oblige. It looks down at you as if beckoning you inward. It seems to say, “Come and ride in me and I shall protect you.” You key in the entry code, and can’t help stepping back as the hermetically sealed armor hisses open. Not shrill. It’s soft like a sigh. You think you see relief in the armor’s face. You feel its thoughts, “At last! At last we can go!”

You reach up and grasp the first rung to ascend, like a child clinging to parent’s leg. You realize the armor is actually crouched down slightly, with arms wide open to you. You get a great appreciation for this accommodating stance as you climb up and the height becomes very real. Spinning off the last rung, you settle down in the cockpit. The armor responds to your weight by engaging belts and straps about your waist and limbs. At first you’re a little scared, leaning forward in the seat matching the armor’s stance, until you take hold of the controls rods. They’re loosely strapped to your wrists to keep them close.

The armor knew you before this moment. Encased within the control rods is a fingerprint recognition system. A series of lights and air circulation units come to life, a monitor to the left of your head displays your name, rank, and vital signs. On your right is a full system display of the armor, surrounded by gauges for temperature, power, and gyroscope. You slide your right hand to the hatch lever and watch it close sealing you in. Simulations have done nothing to prepare you for this. Your heart pounds as you draw in and hold a breath. The metallic thud of it closing jars you as you unclench your eyes. Now comes the moment when one out of four panics, in this dimly light walking coffin. The heat rises in the cavity, and procedures empty from your head. All systems are primed and ready to go. All that’s left is kicking the ignition pedal, until 90 tons of mechanized armor starts moving to your cues. Gritting your teeth, you kick the pedal. Nothing happens at first causing a lump to form in your thought, are you trapped? The floor plates fold downward, leaving you suspended in the air. You’re surprised at how comfortable it actually is, resting in a spider-web of belts and straps.

You start slowly. You stretch your legs out, causing the armor to stand up straight. A moment later your stomach catches up with the ascent and you exhale that same breath, and begin panting fiercely. Your needs become simple. You’ve stood up, now you need to see. You’re not sure which performed the movement first, you or the armor, but both of your left hands rise to forehead. The armor’s hand lifts the visor and sunlight pours into you. You pull a lever with your left hand, and the glass porthole slides open, letting cool air whip into the cockpit. When did you start sweating? Looking down you see your drill sergeant and are surprised to hear nothing of his usual barks and insults. He’s uncharacteristically silent. He half smiles, nods, and thumbs over his shoulder.

“Welcome to the big world, kid.”

You almost catch yourself thinking him like a father watching a child ride for the first time without training wheels. Is this why they have your first go with no one else in the hangar? Just you and ‘dad’? Just as nervously, you take a step forward.

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About Me

J. R. Calvo, a jack of all trades, was born the youngest of three in New Haven, CT. Weaned by trekkies and Star Wars, he became infatuated with science fiction as a young pup. His obsessions extend out to James O’Barr, and anything printed in comics. Throw in some Tolkien, Goodkind, Jordan, and Sanderson and the conundrum erupted. So Calvo journeyed down the Science Fantasy path to masterpieces like Dune. He began Resonics, in response to the most powerful question, Why not? Why not pit science against ‘magic’? Who would win in a fight a mech or a jedi? However, this is merely the backdrop. Resonics is foremost about the very real people. The villains who think they’re doing what’s best, the good guys drunk on their own legends, and the robotic centaur with a heart of gold… What? You never heard that one? Come and see.

Resonics Manifesto

Resonics is a Science Fantasy Adventure taking place on Earth, years to the future. In this distant future, our hubris brings about the Reaping, a cataclysm tearing the world asunder, spewing forth silver dust. This silver enables a new breed of sonic tech to rise, everything from lights to hovercrafts to weapons. Meanwhile, two factions wrestle to 'save' what's left of the world, The Paladins and the Rebels.

One of the main themes that will be ever-echoing behind the stories is the double-edged sword of belief. Values, honesty, and honor, these are all great, powerful and good things of faith. However, the danger of faith is when one person or organization decides they can take your 'values' and twist them to their own gain, often at the expense of others. Ask a dozen people and you'll get a dozen different answers, but my take on it is that faith occasionally needs some TLC from good old fashioned common sense.

Behind their power struggle, lies a technique re-emerging for those who would listen, the power of Resonation. Resonation is taking the inherent tune and pulse of a living being and using it to affect a separate object. Within Resonation there are two approaches: Untuned and Tuned. Untuned Resonation is the forcing of the object to match your tune. Tuned Resonation is you matching the object's tune.

I got the idea for Resonation and this entire series from a real-world science theory. I'm not going to describe it all here, because my summation would be: lightning is electricity, lightning causes brushfires, why aren't we on fire? Ergo, QED, Therefore, and Henceforth... Fire Pretty :) For the real theory see: http://www.scienceblog.com/cms/physicists-challenge-notion-of-electric-nerve-impulses-say-sound-more-likely-12738.html This theory is the basis behind sonic anesthesia. I took the theory a step further with my story concept. The human body's nervous system, whether electric or sonic, is insulated at the nerve endings via the myelin sheath. Upon researching this sheath, I discovered a couple interesting traits. The density of this sheath is variable, and deterioration of the sheath can lead to madness via alteration of sensory input. So the concept of resonation in my story stems from me wondering what would happen if a person could consciously alter this myelin sheath and use their inherent sonic pulses to affect the world. To maintain believability and consistency in my story (As much as possible), I included the downside. Too much Untuned Resonation, like water blasting against a weakened dam, leads to madness. Tuned Resonation, on the other hand, is like a brittle fallen leaf floating on the waves, undamaged because it doesn't resist the flow. To amplify my 'magic', I used another real-world characteristic. I won't give away how I insert it into the story, but silver is a potent conductor of both electricity and sound.

Lastly, with the Resonics Chronicles, I'm not looking to become a great author, but a storyteller. I set up this blog, not just to get announcements and updates out there, but to glean feedback. Let me know if it's fun to read. The beauty of the shorts proceeding the novel is it gives me a chance to feel out the characters, and see which resonates with you, my audience. Who do you like? Who do you hate? Who do you love to hate? Let me know.